Private Rat In A Cage

[Surea]

"Boss! Did'ja hear? Veto bit the dust! Some kind of poison did him in. Nasty stuff, from all accounts."

Grrwayyr just grinned. The near red Wookie was comfortable in his seat. Nodding. Of course Veto died. He made sure of it. Business rivals were no good, not here. Pit fighting, especially when the fights were to the death, made quite a bit of credits. Sometimes people tried to muscle their way in. Rig fights, set up failures of the more popular fighters. Grrwayyr was the only one who was allowed to do that, so long as this was his ring. Keep the credits flowing, make sure the right people won to keep the hype.

Anyone that went against that or tried to turn it over were threats that needed to be.. Dealt with.

He waved a furry hand, dismissing the underling before him. Only when the man was gone did the Wookie stand. Moved to the back of his room. A bookshelf, where a book would be pulled, opening a path hidden within. A cell hidden within. A red haired woman sat near the back, blankly staring at the wall. Not that she had eyes. The Miraluka didn't react, didn't seem to do anything. She couldn't even if she wanted to. When she was stored away Grrwayyr made sure to remove her arm and leg. Cybernetics were strong, and as shoddy as they might of been she could be a threat.

The pit boss refused to have threats.

<"Another job well done, huh? Hope you got some rest. There's a special fight for ya tonight.">

A frown settled on Surea's lips, but again she said nothing. This was how it was. Always had been.

<"Look forward to it. Not that you have anything else to look forward to."> The Wookie barked out a laugh before turning. Leaving Surea by her lonesome as the bookshelf slipped closed. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes. Fine. Another fight it is.

Darth Ptolemis

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Musical atmosphere.

​

The clicking and clacking of crude metal feet could be heard from beyond the slider gate that opens into the slave dealer Grrwayyr's run-down office. First the rude voice of an Ubese door guard could be heard, then the cheap synthesized voice of a droid's vocoder. The muffled conversation from beyond the gate continues for a few minutes, but the machine is eventually allowed inside, likely following the obvious observation that the droid lacks any kind of inherent threat. The message it came to deliver, however, is much more intriguing.
​

The door snaps open.​

The image of an incredibly cheap, seemingly millennia-old protocol droid model waddles through the cooling steam that escapes the gate's operating servos and continues on its sluggish way toward the distasteful throne of the slaver Wookie. The shambling skeleton of a droid finally stops, and without greeting or pleasantries, simply opens its artificial mouth, from whence a pale blue holographic projection erupts, producing an extremely grainy image of a mysterious, hooded figure…
​

The chilling voice of the holographic stranger immediately sours the atmosphere of the office. – Everything is set for the slave to be taken. Reveal your price and I will transfer the sum immediately. – The wireless line was crackling, distorted, but the stranger's intent was clearer than Tatooine's twin suns.​

 

[Surea]

Grrwayyr had just gotten comfortable when someone else arrived. A droid, no less. He stared in a mix of disdain and disbelief as the shoddy thing stopped before him. Before he could even speak a word, the droid's mouth opened and the hologram came to life. Ah, that guy again. He chuckled darkly as he leaned back in his seat. Everything was set. Good. All that was left was payment.

And he could just name his price? The Wookie cackled.

<Oh of course. For this prime goodie I assure you it's not too expensive. A million credits should be fine, no?"

Darth Ptolemis

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Musical atmosphere.

​

With its mouth still eerily agape, the droid stood motionless, as if rusted still. The pinging sound of the slaver's datapad confirmed the arrival of the exorbitant sum. – Transferred. – Said the hooded stranger's projected image. – I expect the subject to be drugged and delivered to the secure container at docking bay E23 within the next thirty minutes. The droid can lead the way. – Despite being straight-to-the-point, the stranger's message seemed very much ominous. The hooded stranger leaned forward, pushed a button on his personal ship's onboard computer, and the transmission ended abruptly. The loud clap of the droid's mouth closing shut concluded the unexpectedly swift transaction. No price was too high for the mysterious benefactor; and the day was far from over.

Oversized clothing dragged across mechanical keys as the stranger's arms pushed a few other buttons, after which the docking hangar's surveillance feed popped up on the dashboard screen. At the very back of the hangar, an ebon scout ship waited with its ramp open; before the ramp stood a crude metal cargo box, half-open. All sorts of shady individuals roamed the crime-infested, concealed pirate bay of Sedesia. Whispers revolved, and time was ticking.​

 

[Surea]

Again the Wookie scoffed. In disbelief, mostly. But sure enough a chime came in as he glanced towards his monitor. The credits were there. All at once his demeanor changed. Not to greed, but wariness. Someone with that kind of cash wasn't someone he wanted to deal with any longer than he had to. <"I'll see it done. Pleasure doing business."> He waited for the droid to leave before turning to reopen the book case.

<"Change of plans, rotface.">

Surea turned her head, then the world went dark.

Panic was all she felt when she finally woke. Another dark box, smaller than before. She hated enclosed spaces like this. Too claustrophobic. She slammed her hands against the box. Well, one hand. The other arm was still gone. No cybernetics? Even more panic as she flailed wildly. She needed to get out. She needed air. She needed to breath.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Musical atmosphere.

​

Fastened to the wall of the cargo compartment, the shoddy protocol droid spoke. – Master, the subject has awakened. – Its head darted between the box and the cockpit.

The hooded pilot at the helm didn't say anything, for it was obvious the drugs weren't sufficient if noises could already be heard from within the metal box. It was no ordinary slave the man was in possession of and even he knew to be careful when transporting dangerous cargo. In truth, the slavers likely weren't aware of just how tremendously lethal their property could have been… But they will learn. They will learn.

The incessant banging continued for an additional forty minutes, but the ship finally arrived at the site of the prepared gauntlet, more or less on the other side of the planet. The stranger needed to witness with his own eyes the capabilities of this curious entity he had been observing for the past few months. She held great promise, but the gift of forbidden knowledge needed to be earned.

As the all-black Nycteris descended from its cruise in high altitude, its speed decreased until it hovered above the canopy of a foreboding coniferous stretch of forest. The overbearing tundra of the planet was bleak, barren and utterly unforgiving. Temperatures could drop to sub-zero degrees, flash storms and floods were a regular occurrence, fauna paid in blood for every crumb of food they could scavenge, and a rather peculiar, psychedelic pheromone-producing mycelium was intertwined with the root system of the forest. Unbeknownst to most, the mysterious pilot was a scholar and had learned that this invasive mushroom controlled almost the entire microclimate of this land, as well as the behavior of all living beings in this completely remote and uninhabited section of the planet. Due to the scarcity of nutrition in these parts, this meant one thing; aggression in all things.

Without warning, the ramp opened, and the box rolled off from a height of about 30 meters. The landing will undoubtedly be unpleasant, but the branches will break the fall and prevent any significant damage to the container's occupant. And therein lies the first challenge; the box was deployed upon the steep bank of a deep, jagged valley. Due to the planet's irregular shape, gravity here is much stronger, quickly tiring out any who are unfortunate enough to wander into this harsh environment.

Hidden inside of the cargo box is a utility pouch containing a single bacta injection and a simple vibro-dagger. Getting out of the box, and escaping the clutches of the deep, almost pitch-black ravine will be a great challenge in and of itself, but coupled with the fact that each step taken will require thrice the physical effort, while battling the disorienting visions of the hallucinatory gases excreted by the underground mycelium network will test even the strongest of wills. Shortly after the box's deployment, the droid is tossed out of the ship as well - but a few clicks away. Perhaps whatever remains of it after crashing into the forest could hold answers for the gifted gladiator.​

 

[Surea]

Panic. It was all she had in the black confines of the crate. She could see all of it. It's walls, the cover. The crack where it could've been opened. Her one hand desperately clawed at that single line of freedom. Of air. She needed to breath. She needed out, she- A weightless sensation caused her to stop. Her rotting blood that had started to drip from where her fingernails had been torn free now floated before her. She'd been dropped. Panic returned just before impact. Then the world went dark.

Cold woke her. Surea snapped up, the panic returning as she remembered just where she was. Hitting her head on the case that still held her confined. Pain dulled her mind for a moment, but it was enough to keep her from devolving into the hysterical panic from before. Enough for her to realize something in the case had moved. Jostled free, close by, a needle. And a dagger. She reached out, taking up the needle. Bacta?

.. Bacta. She knew that. Right. Her bloodied hand gripped the canister as she swiftly injected the healing liquid. It'd sooth the pain, at least for now. Then the dagger. Her 'gaze' lingered on the simple weapon for a moment, staring. Why was there a dagger in here? Where was she? Why had she been dropped? Why was it so fething cold!? She needed answers. The one armed woman didn't hesitate any longer, snatching up the blade and hastily using it to pry open the seam she'd been clawing at before.

And almost regretted it when the case opened. The rush of freezing air, the scent of something wrong in the air. The trees. They were moving, weren't they? No, they couldn't be. Her sight through the Force said one thing, while her mind said another. The contrast between what was real and fake was just too much. Or maybe it was the fall? Either way Surea scrambled out of the case and hurled what little she had in her stomach up.

Everything was spinning. It was cold. Snow? Again she gritted her teeth. It was freezing. Too cold. How long had she been asleep? Was she going to die here? She'd done everything that had been asked of her. Killed those she was tasked to, always came back alive. Struggled endlessly to stay alive despite that hell. Why was she being punished? What had she done wrong?

No, focus. She was alone.. Somewhere. And- A shift in the snow caught her attention. In her scrambling she hadn't noticed it before, but the ground was loose here. Then a feeling of dread. She'd felt it before, on her tasks. When something was threatening her life. With only one leg and one arm the most she could do was throw herself towards one of the trees. The dagger, inactive, bit into the bark, giving her something to hang onto.

Just as a wave of white snow ripped through. Surea did her best to wrap herself around the tree, gripping with all her might as the freezing wave battered into her sore body. An avalanche.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Musical atmosphere.

​

As the hooded stranger tilted the ship's steering rod, it slowly began to accelerate. The canopy of the forest whipped and bent to the forces of the ship's thrusters and compensators. Glittering white particulate matter swirled between the age-old trees, and the ship could be seen slowly floating away from the drop-off point.

The pilot's hand shifted across the dashboard and two fingers pressed on a rectangular button, initiating the ramp-closing sequence. A high-pitched repeating whistle beeped until the ramp unit clamped shut and the pressurization of the craft's interior was done. The ship slipped through the overhead clouds, an inkblot swallowed up by the pale blue of the Sedesian horizon.

In low-atmo the ship shall stall and wait, its shadowy occupant like an angel of death; observing the grueling test from the heavens. Emitted by the primitive droid brain left behind, an invisible electrostatic discharge will periodically sweep through the forest and relay information for the ship's pilot. It shall serve as a pulse beacon, recording notable movements and possible energy fluctuations. However, an additional secret remains hidden inside the discarded protocol droid, still waiting to be discovered.

Face-down in the snow powder, under a blanket of pine needles the droid's head appears to hum a repeating verbal instruction; but due to the extensive damage suffered upon impact, it can only be understood if one turns its frame over.​

 

[Surea]

She was freezing. There was no more denying that the cold was too much. Surea was never in rags, but the shoddy clothing she did have felt stiff. Very likely it was actually frozen. What body heat she had melted the snow, which in turn turned to ice. A cruel fate, crueler than the Rot that still ate away at what remained of her body. Yet she didn't give up. Once the avalanche ended she'd dropped from the tree, dragging herself through the snow. The dagger, while inactive, made it somewhat easier. Stab into the ground, pull herself forward. Utilizing what remained of her legs to keep pushing forward. Struggle, fight, survive.

The cold numbed her to the point she lost track of time. Of where she was. The terrible slant she had to fight against to get up leveled out. Surea didn't know where she was or what she was doing. A feeling guided her, one she'd followed before. That danger sense? .. No, similar, but not the same. Her blade continued to bite into the ground as she dragged herself through the snow, until it hit something metal.

She'd blink if she ever had the eyes to. Focus returned as she sat up, reaching down to brush away what hid the body of a droid. A droid? The vibrodagger activated at once as she started to dismantle it. The ports she had on her limbs that let her former owner attach and detach her limbs, she'd learned how to use them. How to connect pieces if she'd ever lost others. Bit by bit she'd utilize the droid's body, attaching it's limbs to her own. They were shoddy, slow.

But it was better than dragging herself around in the snow. Surea started at the cybernetic hand that now obeyed her mind, flexing her fingers. She could survive. She had to survive. Then her legs. With both hands attaching a leg was far easier. She was still cold, her fingers shaking, but through sheer force of will she refused death. Only when her body was together again did she even realize there was something off about the droid.

With the metallic foot she'd turn it over, roughly kicking it to test the power in this new leg. Not much, but there was no sense of pain. And while not strong, it was still made of metal.

Darth Ptolemis

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Danger.

​

The seemingly inert head of the forsaken droid rolls over, and like a jump-scare, its eyes suddenly flare up in a piercing red, its mouth once again snaps agape, and at a distorting volume it shrieks its final warning:

ALWAYS
BEHIND
YOU​

Aboard the Nycteris, the pilot's voice breaks the silence of the cosmos. – Now.

Simultaneously on the surface, a blaster shot shrieks past the ear of the freezing gladiator. BAM! Its impact force explosively ruptures a young tree completely in half. The broken pine's muffled impact kicks up the fungal fallout of previous mycelial eruptions, entrancing all who may stand near its mind-bending vapours. The hallucinatory gases violate the lone survivor's every senses… pressuring her to punch through the wall of pain, of freezing, of despair. Her special gifts are all that can save her… particularly that clawing feeling at the back of her mind that stalked her all her life; those precognitive whispers that swept past the walls of her psyche, foretelling danger and hidden truths. These peculiar circumstances keep on testing her, pushing her to either break her limits, or let her limits break her.

Two more shots ring out, each missing its target.

But who is attacking her all of a sudden?

From a tall tree, a capable-looking bounty hunter drops down on the ground. Without a word, the paid killer raises their blaster pistol once again with lethal intent, aiming at the lone survivor.

 

[Surea]

Danger?

No sooner did she feel that odd sensation than a bolt ripped just past the side of her head. She didn't hesitate any longer, scrambling past the droid before lifting what remained as cover. More blaster fire came, each missing. Why did they miss? What was happening? Was this the fight her master had told her about? Anger flashed in her mind. She'd done so well, done everything asked of her, but this was her reward? To fight half frozen against a superiorly armed and armored foe?

She kept the droid carcass up, letting it take the next shot. No more missing, huh? Surea gritted her teeth. Anger. Rage. She lifted the blasted apart remains of the droid, throwing them towards the man with all her might. Near unnatural might at that. Untrained in the Force she couldn't compare to a Sith, but hate and rage, she knew how to use those. The molten carcass flew like she'd only thrown a rock.

The bounty hunter dodged, readying their blaster to continue firing. Only to find the Vibrodagger cutting through the barrel. And Surea trying to tackle them to the ground with a leap forward.

Darth Ptolemis

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Danger.

​

The survivor's speed seemed like a blur through the bounty hunter's helmet; but the illusory distortion wasn't due to some physical error of the helmet's visor. Her speed, her bodily strength felt primal. It radiated heat… Passion… A long dormant sparkle held within, now beginning to pulse with each wave of hate fed into it.

First a block, then a throw. The blasted-apart droid carcass flew past the nimble bounty hunter, but as he raised his pistol to let loose another shot of green plasma, the sharp edge of the hurled vibroblade sliced its barrel clean off. Barely registering what just happened, in a moment's notice, he stood face to face with the striking image of a leaping warrior.

There was no way to dodge, so he just let go of his weapon and attempted to accomodate to the sudden shift in distance. The bounty hunter swiftly pivoted his right leg backward, kicking up a considerable cloud of rainbow particles with his sliding move and placed his weight onto the hind leg temporarily. His goal was to forcefully grab onto the wrists of his flying enemy and allow himself to be tackled to his back – only to carry the momentum onward and once on his back, kick the vicious fighter with both feet in the stomach, with the intent of throwing her further back through the air.
​

Meanwhile, on the Nycteris, the shadowy figure stroked his chin. Although the assessment of the chosen warrior was far from done, the first drops of an exhilarating thought began to bleed through his strict code of conduct. Could she be the right one? Could his long scouring finally yield its Krayt pearl of a candidate?
​

A drawn-out exhalation made the enigmatic observer recollect himself and focus on what's going on with his charge planetside. ​

 

[Surea]

The world spun. Hallucinations, overwhelming fear and anger. Was it the clouds that kept getting tossed up? Realizing far too late she inhaled too much. Everything blurred. Her senses, her balance. She was thrown easily, scrambling against the ground the moment she landed. It was moving. No, it wasn't. Was it? The hallucination said one thing while her senses said another entirely. The contradictions were dizzying. The frozen, solid snow versus the overwhelming heat of some serpent body she'd landed atop, shifting and slithering. Which was real?

Surea staggered to her feet. Weaponless, wielding only salvaged cybernetics, dizzy, what could she do? She hated this feeling. The uncertainty and unbalance of each step as she tried to near the bounty hunter. To close in again, to lash out. She hated it. Hated all of this. Hated everything. She'd done everything right. She listened to every order, killed every person she'd been sent to no matter the cost to her own body. Even as her body rotted away. Even as she lost everything that a person she continued forward to survive.

Hate.

Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

She stopped thinking. All consuming rage was all she had left. Like an animal she threw herself forward, screaming with all her hate. The ground shook, not just in her hallucinations, shattering the ground, the trees. Everything in her path as she clawed her way towards the Hunter. The Force bent and twisted under her single desire. Gripping the man. Pulling him towards the raging beast.

Her hands caught his mask as he was thrown. Unnatural might slammed him to the revealed and cracked ground. Again and again. Slamming him into the earth without pause or holding back. Metal screeched as she destroyed the helmet. The skull underneath. She didn't stop until there was only a bloody mess where a head had been scattered across the frozen earth around her.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

A choice.

​

The hired hunter was pathetically helpless in the face of such powerful display of dark might. An assortment of gore splattered outward in a fractal of blood as the panting survivor knelt atop her butchered prey.

'Indeed.' The mysterious stranger thought, still lingering in his ship above the clouds. 'This survivor… This could be the right one.' The thought of having a secret apprentice had long festered in his mind, not unlike the curious ability that his potential apprentice wielded. It too had only furthered his interest in her; since what he cared above all was knowledge and the means to gain possession of it. Yet he also swore to remain remarkably vigilant, for there was an obscure participant to this game. His own master, Dimitri Voltura , the Dragon himself who still lived was no easy Lord to fool. Extreme caution was the key to a future in which he, or a future disciple, lived.

Impressed by the brutality and swiftness of the Miraluka, his orchestrated plan quickly gained momentum. The next clue for the stranded survivor lay within the datapad of the bounty hunter she had just overpowered. The hooded stranger leans back in his seat and an uncharacteristic smile creeps onto his face. After a couple of seconds, he bends forward again and holds an analogue key on his ship dashboard pressed.

The hallucinations of the forest were potent, but fleeting. As the strobe of colors and the frightening terrors of the survivor's subconscious slithered back behind the tree trunks to disappear for good, a device began to beep repeatedly in one of the brutalized corpse's pockets, awaiting an answer.​

 

[Surea]

The air stilled. Or, no. Surea gritted her teeth. Something was still happening around her. Every exhale of breath as she loomed over the broken carcass of the man that had tried to kill her. No, the air didn't still. The difference between her senses came into focus again. The odd scents, the horrifying noises, the warmth and chill that didn't fit the cold snow, they faded. The haze of her rage faded.

In a couple more breaths, she was just an abandoned slave out in the cold.

She stripped down the bounty hunter then, taking his armor, clothing, whatever seemed warm she pulled on to try and escape the freeze that had settled in. As she did, the beeping finally caught her attention. Surea let her attention linger on it only for a moment. Staying warm, that's what mattered first. Only when she was properly bundled up did she finally click on the device.

"They failed." An employer hoping for an update, right? That's usually what this was. She'd killed guards that had them on before. Hoping to hear the threat had been dealt with. Usually she ignored them. Not this time. She was the target this time. "You're next."

Darth Ptolemis

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

First contact with the unknown.

​

"They failed." An employer hoping for an update, right? That's usually what this was. She'd killed guards that had them on before. Hoping to hear the threat had been dealt with. Usually she ignored them. Not this time. She was the target this time. "You're next."

The heated answer intrigued the mysterious stranger further as he kept the button pressed and thus the channel open. – I would be disappointed if they hadn't. – The transmitted, raspy audio of the stranger's voice was heard. The man on the other side of the comms disregarded the threat on his life, since it was his very intention to coax such primal feelings out from the bowels of his candidate's soul. This entire trial was designed with the intention to summon and witness the true strength of this woman, and to determine whether it was indeed the Dark Side of the Force that led him to her. Whatever the truth was, the facts remained; she had gotten farther and faster than any he'd subjected to such a gruesome gauntlet before. And above all, hers was the cruelest still.
​

The final act of the trials shall make or break their future together.​

And it begins now.​

– Long have I been observing you… Surea. – He allowed the theatricality in the revelation to sink in. Then he got straight to the point. – You are still on Sedesia. – The channel breaks, but is reestablished immediately. A peculiar sense of authority permeates the way the stranger steers the conversation, as if his dour words were, in some strange way, particularly convincing. – If you head North, you will arrive back at your former captors and face your final test. Past the blackest door, your destiny shall await you. – Static flares up, but the stranger's final words can still be heard over the line. – You may also decline and live whatever life you think you want. Make your choice.

The line is cut and the cold quiet static of the dead comm channel harmonizes with the equally chilled air of rural Sedesia. There was a lot to take in for the fierce survivor.

The off-the-maps settlement Surea was slaving away at is likely too far to reach on foot. However, the keenest of ears could pick up on the grunts and ruffles of several massive local six-legged creatures on the opposite side of the forest. How one would see to the challenging task of riding an untamed beast, however, was another test in and of itself.​

 

[Surea]

Surea listened in silence, at first. Then in more silence, if begrudgingly so. The moment she did try to speak the com had been cut off. Anger flashed through her mind. Whoever the hell this was, she wanted them dead. They were behind all of this, then? Her grip tightened on the device, nearly breaking it in her frustration. But she stopped herself. Listened. A.. Test? Her brow furrowed.

Then the line was cut. Permanently this time, it seemed. Alone in the snow, her grip continued to tighten on the device in her palm. Cracking it. Shattering it. The cut in her palm and the dull pain it brought pulled her from her rage. She glanced to the ruined bits of circuitry before she discarded it. Letting it fall from her palm onto the mangled corpse before her. She couldn't stay here in the cold, regardless of her choice to follow this test or not.

Focus on getting out of here.

Her lips thinned as she took stock of what she could salvage. No other blaster. She ruined the first with her knife. Which, was also broken. At least the Hunter had his own. She took it up, hitting the ignition to check over the vibroedge. It hadn't been too damaged in her display of power before.

Wait.

Her attention shifted to the bare spot where the body remained. Where she'd done.. Something. It felt good, that much she remembered. The power, using her anger on everything around her. Surea tightened her grip on the dagger in her hand. Fine. If these tests were about that, she'd entertain this a little longer. Where else did she have to go?

It was better with the warm clothing. Trudging through the snow back to her owner- No, she was following the test. Following orders. Again. Her brow knitted together. Before she could really debate that though, danger flooded her mind. Movement from the trees. One of the large creatures burst out, roaring in anger as it charged for the Miraluka. Surea tensed. Brandished her dagger, crouched.

Then sprang to the side as it charged through. Her knife wasn't going to be enough, was it? Before she could formulate anything though the creatures tail swiped out. Crashing into her chest and sending her scattering into the snow. Pain clouded her mind as she pushed herself up. Only to be scattered away again as the beast charged her. Slammed it's head into her chest, sending her into the air.

She'd barely been able to get her arms up to cover herself. Not that it mattered. The salvaged mechanical limb shattered under the impact alone, leaving her with just her rot scarred hand. Pain. Pain and hate. They flooded her mind as she rolled to her stomach. Pushed herself up. How hurt was she now? Broken ribs for sure. She coughed, spitting up rotten blood. Punctured lung?

Staggering to her feet, she again saw the creature lower it's head. Prepare to charge. It's six legs shuffled over the snow with.. Uncertainty? It feared her? No. It feared her Rot. Could it tell her sickness? Was it here to protect it's herd from her infection? She let out a laugh. Of course. It was her rot, all over again. That which ruined her body. That which made her a weapon.

It charged, and the hate she felt before welled in her chest. That familiar feeling as she dealt with the Bounty Hunter. This time, she welcomed it. Used it. Reached out. The stump that remained of her arm lifted. And with it, the creature did too. All her hate and anger caused the very air to ripple as she put all her attention on the Strider. Bit by bit it rose up, flailing in the air.

Then a crack.

It's body contorted unnaturally. Something important broke inside it. Life left it's eyes. The Miraluka let her arm drop. Tired. She felt tired. Her perception spun and she dropped face first into the snow.

Battered and broken she wandered back into town. The scavenged armor had been discarded. The Strider had broken that. Surea was in a daze. Wandering through the streets, holding what remained of her cybernetics with her rotting hand. She'd never been in town in the day. The thought passed through her mind, only briefly. Pain kept her hazed. She didn't remember anything after she'd fallen into the snow.

It wasn't the first time she'd stumbled her broken body back to her cage.

Step by step her cybernetic limbs went. Creaking and whining the whole time. They were, ironically, on their last legs. She couldn't repair them. She couldn't even focus. But she was here, in town. Heading back to her cage like she was on autopilot. She stopped outside the fighting pit. The blackest door. Her head cocked to the side as the voice echoed in her mind, pulling her attention forward. Here, in the moment.

Or was it something else? Regardless, she pushed the door open and stepped through.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

A strange turn

She'd been pushed to the absolute brink.

Good.

The hooded stranger pushes on the throttle lever and his ebon ship disappears into the Sedesian distance.​

​

Drudging on upon the stepping stones of delirium, the rotting survivor arrived at a door; maybe the first of many doors that could open before her, should she make the right choice. The tragedy of murder still envelops her; the predator has returned to the nest, but now carrying a crucial lesson. The exhilarating, empowering rush that swept her away. Deep down, at the back of her mind the faintest, most ancient of truths seemed to whisper to her a tale of the profane; she had experienced the freedom and power of the unknown. She reined it in; she took control and broke her shackles in more ways than one. Again, and again. She was exceptional, but still... untrained.

A faint call of the unknown reaches out to her, through something she does not fully understand yet. Even still, the feeling of a destiny that is shrouded in mystery slithers through her mind, infecting more and more thought patterns as it dives into the subconscious, and leaves behind a dark trail. The primitive handle on the black door creaks, and rays of neon lights escape through the slit. Inexplicably, like a wind of life, raw power suddenly fills the veins of Surea. An ethereal gift is bestowed.

She enters the room and finds herself in the spacious trophy hall of her former captor, Grrwayrr. The metallic ornaments of extravagant furniture and the displayed skulls of exotic beasts inside reflect the dimmed neon lights above; the lavish rays blanket the central strip of the room with luminosity, but leave many nooks and crannies, including draped sofas and veiled side-rooms in the shadows. As one's gaze travels along the accents of the expensive interior design, it might find that all's in order and Surea had just stumbled into the wrong room, aiming to enter a completely different place. But an invisible hand steered her here. The Wookie Grrwayrr, as well as his Ubese guards lie face-down on the floor, lifeless. A curious, high-tech hum comforts the ears, its pitch low, but foreboding.

Panting and in a wide stance, a young man stands alone in the middle of the hall, surrounded by the corpses of the slave dealers, with numerous laser-scorch marks on the walls. The brilliant, beautiful, pristine blue of the melee laser weapon that he holds abruptly disappears as the dark-haired man turns back to face the person that had just joined him.

– Oh. – Blushed, the young man looks around, visibly struggling to find the proper way to explain his conundrum. – This isn't what it seems. They tried to subdue me! You know, I'm a Jedi, and… – His hand gestures stop just as he locks his eyes onto Surea's helmet, an expression of curiosity and revelation growing on his face. – Oh, but you are exactly who I'm looking for! – He recollects himself, holsters his cylindrical metal object and places his hands on his hip. Beads of sweat run down his face. – My name is Mitvic Stohaz, a Seeker and Padawan of the Jedi Order. I don't know your name, but I know you're special. That means you need to learn how to wield this… gift you have. – A beat. – You've felt it before, didn't you? – Even though standing quite a few meters away from Surea, the Padawan reaches out and takes a single step toward her, nonverbally presenting the imminent offer. – You need to come with me. We can guide you. But we need to hurry. Others may be coming.​

 

[Surea]

Pain dulled everything. Every step sent a dull aching wave through what remained of her legs attached to her cybernetics. Even as numb as she was to pain, she couldn't ignore this pain. It was a hollow echo, thrumming in her hears, pounding in her chest. No one stopped her. No one looked at her. There was no one here, not that she noticed. Not until she reached the doors. The familiar doors she'd stumbled through so many times before.

She raised her hands, pressing them to the wood as she pushed them open. Half about to collapse in the process as she took another step in. Then suddenly focus. The pain didn't fade. It sharpened. Her swimming mind came to a single point in the room. Grrwayyr. Surea fell to her knees. Not out of grief or anguish. A dull thrum in the room had crushed the circuitry that kept them from breaking. Her breathing picked up. Anger. So much anger.

The woman didn't realize the power she'd been loaned. The surge of strength in her body was second to the dead body of her owner. Her torturer. This wasn't right. That was hers. Her kill. The words echoed through her mind naturally. She'd come here to climb into her cage and lick her wounds, but now she only felt a rage over a stolen kill. Then a voice. Shaky, fear?

Surea pulled off the clumsy mask that covered the rotten scars that had bloomed over her face. She moved to stand, but she couldn't. Her legs had started to crumble behind her, crushed by an invisible force. Her rage, unchecked. The air around her vibrated with that same power. The Jedi, the Padawan that he was, didn't see the danger. A beaten slave out of control from her emotions on seeing this. Fearful of something, anything. He chose compassion.

He stepped closer, his hand still outstretched. Reaching down to touch her shoulder. "It's oka-"

"Mine."

The broken voice, the malice. The Padawan paused his reach, just before touching her. Dread filled him all at once. The feeling he'd mistaken as her fear was never hers. He only sensed himself. A red haze slowly filled the air around the woman. Her scars seemed to glow, fester with the rot within her. Her hated curse. That which Grrwayyr had turned into a weapon with her. He was dead. This Jedi killed him.

"He was mine."

The Force swelled. The Padawan, in his fear, failed to move away as the rot around her suddenly bloomed. The red haze rushed out as a wave of energy, scattering bodies, loose flooring and items, everything was thrown away from Surea. Everything but the Padawan before her. He dropped to his knees, his saber slipping from his grasp. Blood leaked from the corner of his eyes. His nose. His skin blackened. Rotted. But that wasn't enough.

Surea dragged herself forward towards his chocking form. As his body rapidly rotted from the inside. Fear locked on the eyeless scars of the Miraluka as she reached out. Taking up his lightsaber. Immediately she felt a resistance from the weapon. She didn't understand it, but she didn't care. The blue blade ignited as she loomed over the Padawan. "You'll replace him."

The surge of power. The raw anger and hate she had for this Jedi. He was here to save her, right? But in the process he'd stolen her freedom. The freedom of killing Grrwayyr with her own hands, it was the only thing that had kept her moving forward. The hope the Wookie slaver would slip up, leave her with a weapon. Let her get close enough to use her rot. He wanted to help?

The blue glow in the room twisted. Red crackled through as her blackened hand squeezed the hilt with an unnatural might. The saber's hilt fractured. The resistance she felt, it faded as the blade itself seemed to crackle with untamed energy. She'd cracked the Kyber itself. But the blade didn't resist. That's what she focused on. Her blade flashed through the air then. Running through the chest of the Padawan.

Mercy. That's what this was. Mercy as thanks for helping to free her. Sparing him from the death of her Rot as thanks. As she felt the life leave the body below her, she smiled. Grrwayyr was dead. The saber in her hand extinguished as she just sat back. Let her head lift to the ceiling.

She was free.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

RAT IN A CAGE

Surea

Sealing fate

​

All of a sudden, every light in the room explodes one by one, except for a single crimson spotlight that lands upon the body of the Wookie slaver. – Welcome, to the desert, of the dark. – The mechanical voice from before echoes around the great hall, the eerie notes always peeking at Surea from behind pillars and veils, yet their origin keeps eluding her. – Your gauntlet is complete. – The revolving, ominous sounds are drenched in a feeling of finality. – One choice remains.
​

From behind a far pillar, a masked figure clad in overlong black cloth emerges and floats toward the blood-colored light.​

​

He steps over a couple of corpses, but comes to a halt before the body of Grrwayrr. A gloved hand emerges from beneath the occultish robe, and the credit kit attached to the Wookie's belt tears away from its fixed place and flies into the waiting palm of the hooded menace. He throws the leather kit at the feet of Surea. – This is approximately the amount I have paid for you. It is yours, and I forfeit my ownership over you. – A clattering thud as the kit lands and slides to a halt. – What the Jedi said is true. You have a gift. – The monotone, monstrous voice continues. – But what he omitted were the heights you can reach, if you only embrace and control your inner… rot… and bend your fate to your own will, instead of bowing your head to whatever destiny they think waits for you. Before I answer your questions, I must say this.​

I can show you the door.

But only you can seize the handle.​